


The Trial of the Tribunal

by vocal_fries



Series: Subtext Becomes Text [10]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: DS9 S2E25 "Tribunal", Episode: s02e25 Tribunal, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I mean I'm not but also I am because this is ridiculous, I'm Sorry, Look this is just really fucking fluffy, M/M, Not BDSM for once, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, oh god the feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 15:05:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17368163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vocal_fries/pseuds/vocal_fries
Summary: Bashir and Garak disagree over principles of jurisprudence when Miles is arrested for crimes against the Cardassian state. Don't worry, they make up. Set during and after DS9 S2E25, "Tribunal."





	The Trial of the Tribunal

**Author's Note:**

> This has to be the mostly purely sweet and least kinky thing I've ever written (which I suppose isn't saying much, considering my oeuvre). Sorry, or you're welcome? Not sure which.
> 
> The Cardassian saying about justice that Garak recites in the first scene and references in the last is said to Miles by Conservator Kovat in the episode, so all credit to the writers of DS9 for that.

“Sorry I’m late, Garak. Miles has been  _ arrested! _ By Gul Evek! He’s being held for trial on Cardassia Prime and no one will even tell us why. It’s just insane!” Julian Bashir blurted as he stepped into Elim Garak’s quarters.

Garak cocked his head, intrigued. He’d heard nothing about this, but then, the intelligence chatter he still maintained access to had become much less loquacious of late. “I’m sorry, my dear. Can I get you a drink?”

“A drink?” Julian spat, wheeling to face Garak. “One of my dearest friends has been  _ arrested _ by Cardassian Central Command and you’re offering me a  _ drink _ right now?”

Garak suppressed a sigh. “You’re here, ostensibly, for dinner and drinks. You seem too agitated to eat at the moment. Would you like a drink? I have some non-replicated kanar right now.”

Julian stared at him, incredulous. Whatever retort he was forming seemed to collapse in on itself. The young human sat abruptly, all but throwing himself onto Garak’s sofa. Rubbing his face with both hands, Julian sighed. “Sure. Springwine.”

Garak replicated springwine in the man’s preferred vintage, then poured himself a glass of kanar from the bottle he’d purchased from Quark the day before. He joined Bashir on the sofa.

Julian took the glass, drank half of it at once, and set it on the end table. He slumped against Garak, leaning his head against the older man’s shoulder. He sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to do, Garak. Everything I’ve read about the Cardassian legal system says that by the time someone goes to trial, it’s too late. Guilt has already been determined, and a sentence has already been handed down.”

Garak wrapped his free arm around Julian’s thin shoulders comfortingly.  _ He feels very small. _ “Then you also know how much care is taken during the investigation. I’m sorry, Julian.”

Garak felt Bashir tense. “What?” Julian asked, sounding confused. “ _ What? _ ” he repeated, pushing himself away from Garak so he could face him. “You think Miles is  _ guilty? _ You actually think they did the right thing by arresting him?”

“I’m not one to question Cardassian jurisprudence, Julian. Criminal investigations are taken very seriously on Cardassia. Justice is an integral part of Cardassian culture because the stability of the state  _ relies _ upon it. As they say, on Cardassia all crimes are solved, all criminals are punished, all endings are happy.”

Julian stood up, clearly incensed. “You’ve got to be joking! Miles was abducted! No one has been informed of the charges, and he’s about to face a rigged trial and summary execution!”

Garak sighed again. “Julian, the trials aren’t rigged. I understand that they operate differently than Federation courts, but Cardassia isn’t a member of the Federation. We have our own way of doing things. They’re not wrong just because they’re not what you’re accustomed to.”

“I can’t believe you’re defending this! Garak, you’re one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met. You believe in critical thinking! You believe in the value of a well-constructed argument! You can’t possibly agree with this,” Julian fumed, pacing.

“Intelligence means nothing in the face of chaos. Upholding the wisdom of the state is more crucial to the health of a people than allowing it to unravel because we’ve encountered cultures who disagree with us.”

“‘Us’ — what ‘us’ is there? You’re in exile, Garak. The wisdom of the state would rather see you rot alone on a space station than forgive you!”

Garak felt his blood turn cold. He fixed an icy look at the man standing before him. “Your  _ dear friend _ Miles O’Brien is a staunch bigot who’d like to see me and everyone last one of  _ us _ dead. I can’t imagine he  _ hasn’t _ committed a crime against the Cardassian state.”

Julian stared down at him, aghast. His eyes were furious, and Garak could see the coiled tension in his muscles. Garak glared back, face impassive as he seethed at Bashir’s insufferable moral superiority.

After a long moment, Julian spun on his heel and walked toward the door. “Eat alone,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Garak remained on the sofa for a long time, staring at the door. Finally, he stood, put Julian’s unfinished glass of springwine in the reclamation unit, drained his own tumbler of kanar, and went to bed.

__________________________

 

“The voice print was faked.”

Garak paused mid-stitch to look up from the jacket to which he was attaching piping. Julian was standing in the door of his shop, posture tense.

Garak regarded him stolidly. “Voice print?”

Bashir rolled his eyes as he stepped into the shop. “The voice print that allowed someone to gain access to the photon warheads while  _ pretending _ to be Miles. I’m sure you already know about it, since there’s a record of our investigation,” Julian spat. Garak could feel hard hazel eyes examining him. “Someone stitched together a facsimile of Miles requesting access. They used a recording of him speaking. It wasn’t actually him.”

Garak set down the jacket and needle. “I see.”

“You see,” Julian huffed. “Anything else? Care to admit that Miles  _ might _ have been framed?”

Garak looked at him, making his face as blank as possible.

Julian raked his fingers through his hair in exasperation when Garak remained silent. “Boone obviously set him up! He’s probably Maquis! Who else would want so many photon warheads?”

Garak felt a rush of interest as a hint of a memory began to materialize. “Boone?” he asked mildly.

“Raymond Boone. He was a friend of the chief’s, but he must have set him up. They served together on the  _ Rutledge _ and fought together at Setlik III. Apparently, Boone joined the Maquis after the war ended.”

“I see,” Garak repeated, turning the name over in his mind.  _ It’s very familiar. _

Julian ran his fingers through his hair again and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Fine. You’re not ready to talk about this.” He paused, looking at Garak. His eyes softened. “Look, we can drop this. I’m going to be pretty busy in the infirmary today. Do you still want to have lunch before I start work?”

Garak picked up the jacket and his needle.  _ Boone. Setlik III. _ He frowned slightly. “No, not today. Soon,” he added with a polite nod.

Julian’s eyes bored into him, sharp with frustration. After a long moment, the man strode from the shop.

Garak set down the jacket again.  _ Boone. _ He seemed to remember a number of lower-level operatives in the Obsidian Order replacing captured Starfleet officers after the battle at Setlik III. Garak walked to his computer and activated the partitioned operating system he used for sensitive tasks. He found the information quickly enough. Raymond Boone had indeed been captured on Setlik III, taken prisoner, and replaced. Apparently, the operative had done a poor job of carrying out his mission, having quickly lost Boone’s commission, wife, and familial ties.

_ Not to mention leaving behind clues glaring enough to tip off Starfleet, _ he thought with irritation.

Further research revealed that the operative had been recalled to Cardassia recently. As quiet as the chatter had been of late, Garak began to fill in some gaps. A picture emerged that seemed drawn by the invisible hand of the Order. Garak sighed. So O’Brien, virulent racist that he was, hadn’t done anything after all.  _ Perhaps Julian ought to know that Boone isn’t Maquis, either. _

Garak quickly entered a series of commands. Even if he had felt it wise to reveal to Julian that he maintained any connection to the nebulous world of Cardassian intelligence, Garak doubted the man was open to hearing from him just now. As he worked, a grin tugged at his lips, despite himself.  _ Julian loves intrigue. A shadowy figure, whispered secrets, danger  _ —  _ yes, this will do nicely. _

With the hologram programmed, he hid the partitioned operating system, returned to his work table, and picked up the jacket to finish the piping.

__________________________

 

“Excuse me, Commander, may I join you?”

Benjamin Sisko glanced up from his raktajino with an air of surprise. Garak smiled pleasantly in greeting. “Of course,” Sisko replied, voice exaggeratedly light with skepticism. He gestured at the chair opposite him in the replimat.

“I’d hate to disrupt your routine," Garak said mildly as he took a seat.

“You’re not. Yet.”

“Oh, good. Some people are so set in their ways that the only thing that’ll convince them to deviate from a set course is the threat of something worse than an interruption.”

Sisko raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that’s true. Is there something you wanted to discuss?”

“A little bird told me you discovered Raymond Boone isn’t Raymond Boone after all. Now  _ that _ seems terribly embarrassing, doesn’t it?”

“For whom?” Sisko asked, studying Garak’s face.

Garak smiled blandly. “Oh, for him, I suppose. Who else risks embarrassment from catching him in a lie?”

Sisko stared at Garak, eyes hard. Garak maintained the dully pleasant expression he knew drove Sisko mad while simultaneously signaling that Garak was conveying something of importance. Sisko set down his raktajino. “Whoever craft the lie, I suppose.”

“Oh my. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Hadn’t you,” Sisko said flatly.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t want to be revealed to know something about which I’ve claimed ignorance. We Cardassians do love to uphold our sense of decorum and integrity. What’s worse than a scandal?”

Garak saw the glimmer of understanding in Sisko’s eyes. “Not much, if you’re a Cardassian.” Sisko held Garak’s gaze for a moment, chewing on the idea.

Garak smiled again as he stood to leave. “Well, I’ve certainly interrupted your morning routine more than is polite. Please forgive the intrusion. Good day, Commander.”

Sisko offered a flicker of a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Garak.”

Garak nodded politely and departed.

__________________________

 

Garak was watching the late afternoon light fade as he lounged in a natural hot spring in Papallacta, Ecuador, on one of Earth’s southern continents when the door of the holosuite appeared. He looked up sharply, relaxing only marginally when he saw Julian standing in the doorway.

“Did Quark fail to mark this suite as occupied?” Garak asked, incredulous.

“I told him you knew I was joining you. I know I should have asked.” Bashir paused, sheepish. “Um. Can I join you?”

Garak looked at him. The human appeared to be as tired as Garak himself felt. “I don’t want to argue with you right now, Julian.”

The man smiled crookedly. “Really? How unlike you.”

Garak smirked. “I don’t want to  _ fight _ with you right now. Banter is permissible.” He gestured at the steaming water. “I think the temperature is within a tolerable range for you.”

Julian laughed as he slipped out of his uniform. “Earth’s hot springs were popularized far earlier than contact with other humanoids. I’m sure it’s fine.” Removing his undergarments, Bashir eased into the water with a deep sigh. He leaned back against the stone, eyes closed. “It’s actually incredibly pleasant. Good choice.” He opened his eyes just enough to smile at Garak.

“I’ve been trying to be proactive about finding healthier means of relaxing since the removal of the device. I’ve already worked through all the popular steam pools of Vulcan. Last week, I started looking into geologic heat on Earth. For a race who keeps their ships and stations so cold, your planet boasts a remarkable number of hot springs.” Garak gestured toward the western sky, which was beginning to saturate with the gathering colors of sunset. “Years on this station has led me to miss the simple pleasure of sunsets.”

Julian opened his eyes fully, drinking in the sky. The warm colors turned his skin a flushed hue Garak found appealing. “They’re certainly beautiful.” He glanced at Garak. “I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself.”

Garak nodded, paused a moment. “So. You’re not angry with me. Does this mean Sisko’s plan to threaten the Chief Archon with public humiliation was successful? Have the charges been dismissed?”

Julian laughed languidly, settling more comfortably against the rock face behind him. “Sisko’s plan. Of course. Because the commander is nothing if not deeply knowledgeable about the Cardassian legal system, the priorities of the Central Command, and the subtleties of the Cardassian psyche. It certainly makes a lot of sense that he’d come up with such a clever plan so quickly.”

Garak suppressed a smile. “Commander Sisko  _ is _ a clever man.”

Julian smiled warmly, turning his head to gaze at Garak. “Thank you.”

Garak raised a brow ridge, face innocent. “Whatever for?”

Julian’s smile melted into something far more tender. “Thank you, Garak.”

A warmth spread through Garak’s chest, deeper than the heat produced by the water. He smiled fondly at Julian, eyes lingering on the play of pink-orange light in his dark hair. “Come here.”

The young man joined him against the eastern edge of the hot spring. They settled in to watch the sunset, arms around one another. Julian leaned his head against Garak’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. “I’m sorry I’ve been so combative,” Bashir said softly.

“You were worried about your friend.”

Julian sighed. “I think he really does hate Cardassians. He’s such a good man in so many other respects that it’s hard for me to wrap my head around it. I don’t really believe he’d ever act on it, but it’s been a point of serious contention in our friendship.”

“He doesn’t like you eating lunch with a Cardie?”

Julian turned his head to look up at Garak with wide eyes. “He doesn’t say  _ that, _  at least.”

Garak smiled wanly. “I suppose he doesn’t.”  _ Around you. _ Julian leaned against Garak’s shoulder again. “I’m glad you didn’t lose a friend,” Garak continued, relishing the feel of Julian’s body pressed against his own. “And all is forgiven from our, ah, disagreement.” Ignoring the outraged voice imploring him not to be such a sentimental fool, Garak pressed a kiss to Bashir’s hair.

The two men lapsed into silence, enjoying each other’s company and the scenery. The sounds of birds gave way to tree frogs and insects as the sun sank. The low flame of arousal flickering within Garak was more pleasant than urgent. When the sunset reached its vivid apogee, Julian sat up slightly, cupped Garak’s face with one hand, and kissed him deeply. Garak felt the mild heat in his ajan grow into an all-consuming blaze. He moaned softly into the kiss, testing his emerging theory that Julian couldn’t resist the sound of his pleasure.

Garak smiled privately when Julian pulled him onto his lap.  _ My theory seems to be proving itself true. _ Slim, graceful fingers traced intricate shapes over Garak’s hips and thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” Julian murmured. “With the water beading on you, the dusk light shining in your hair.” He smiled appreciatively. “I could just look at you all night.”

Garak grinned, wolfish. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

Julian chuckled, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Do Cardassians float?”

“Excuse me?”

“In water. Most humans can lie on their backs in water and float at the surface.”

“Oh. Yes, we do. Why?”

Julian smiled and planted a light kiss on Garak’s stomach. “Lean back.”

Garak looked at the human questioningly but did as he was told, spreading his limbs for buoyancy.

“Relax,” Julian purred. “Breathe. Float.”

Garak took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Overhead, the sky was darkening. The warm water covered his aural ridges, adding a liquid, muffled quality to the chirping of nocturnal creatures around the pool. As his muscles relaxed, he could feel himself shift slightly with every small movement of the water.

He felt Julian’s hands encircle one foot, massaging the arch. Garak sighed contentedly. He gazed at the sky, watching stars emerge. It was dark when Julian switched feet, seemingly in no hurry. Garak let his mind drift, relaxing further.

After Julian finished with both feet, strong hands gently pulled Garak’s legs, moving him through the water. The hands released his legs and reappeared under his hips, supporting him. He felt his thighs contact Julian’s shoulders a second before a warm mouth pressed a kiss to his swollen ajan.

Garak gasped, steadying his breath to remain afloat. Clever lips and tongue sucked his engorged ajan lips, tugging gently. He resisted the urge to squirm as Julian licked more and more urgently, moaning between his legs. Garak focused on breathing deeply and evenly, gazing at the alien constellations overhead. His ajan throbbed, and his prUt began to ache exquisitely within him. Waves of intense pleasure rolled over him as Julian continued his ministrations. To be so warm, so doted upon, so deeply aroused, was intoxicating.

Finally, nearly overwhelmed, Garak lifted his head slightly. “My dear,” he whispered. “I’m going to evert very soon.”

Garak was certain he felt Julian smile against the pulsing flesh of his ajan. “Good. Whenever you feel ready, I want to you to evert for me.”

Garak relaxed his neck, luxuriating in the steaming water. He breathed deeply into a jewel-encrusted sky. He felt tension build between his legs as Julian pressed his face hungrily against Garak’s ajan, probing deeply enough with his tongue to trail over the tip of the hard prUt within.

Garak moaned breathily as his prUt finally slid out. Julian’s grip on Garak’s hips steadied him. When lips closed over his prUt, Garak let himself whimper.

Julian enthusiastically swallowed Garak’s prUt while delicate fingers pressed into his ajan. Overstimulated, Garak jerked in the water, and Julian helped him into an upright position.

They stared at each other, grinning breathlessly. Julian gripped Garak’s hips and pulled the Cardassian back onto his lap, seated perpendicular with his legs to one side. Julian’s hard cock pressed against Garak’s hip. The desire burning in him was further inflamed by the heady feeling of being held so tenderly, so protectively. Garak circled an arm around Julian’s shoulders and leaned down to kiss him, his heart beating wildly in his throat.

Julian smiled into their kiss, and Garak savored the acidic taste of his own ajan in the human’s mouth. Garak shivered as slim fingers grasped his prUt possessively.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against Julian’s ear. “Just like this.”

Strong hands lifted him slightly in the water. When Julian lowered Garak again, he guided his erection into the Cardassian’s ajan. Garak breathed deeply, wondering at the immense sense of relief that washed through him when Julian’s long, thick cock filled him. He rocked his hips eagerly, pressing himself down, feeling the stretch as he fully enveloped Bashir’s organ.

Julian’s arms encircled him in a tight embrace as they began to move in time, Garak rolling his hips while Julian thrust up into him. The pleasure was agonizing and exquisite, breathtaking in its intensity. Garak captured Julian’s mouth, kissing him urgently.

When Garak’s panting turned to moans, Julian reached between his legs and grasped his prUt. “Look at me,” Julian breathed against Garak’s lips. “I want to watch you come.”

Garak met the intense hazel eyes gazing up at him. A nearly inaudible grunt of effort emanated from the human’s throat with every thrust of his hips. Garak began to fall apart under that gaze, the tenderness he saw in Julian’s face pushing him toward the edge as much as the heavy cock moving inside his ajan and the deft hand stroking his prUt.

Garak wasn’t sure later how long his orgasm lasted. He remembered a flash of blue-white behind his eyes obscuring his vision, the sound of his own voice crying out his lover’s name, the feeling of his own name whispered against his lips over and over, the delicate strength of the hand milking blueish semen from his body, the rhythm of Julian moving inside him, the deep liquid heat of ejaculate filling him. He remembered the lightheadedness of not turning away from hazel eyes that looked at him with a love he found staggering to consider. Time slowed, warped, expanded, circled back on itself.

When their breathing began to slow, the sounds of the night around them crept back in. Garak was still on Julian’s lap, still encircled in strong arms. He leaned in, pressed a soft kiss to Julian’s lips.

The human looked at him, smiled. He gently kissed Garak’s temple, his chufa, his eyelids, before pushing his tongue between Garak’s lips. Garak sucked Julian’s warm tongue deeper into his mouth. For several long, formless minutes, they kissed and caressed one another, gentle touches and murmured pleasure doing a poor job of disguising the words of love each managed not to say aloud.

Finally, Julian pulled Garak off his lap, curling up against him. He breathed a deep sigh. “Why did you help me? After so passionately defending Cardassian jurisprudence.”

“‘All endings are happy.’ Once in a while, that needs to be true.”

**Author's Note:**

> It only occurred to me like a week ago, but Garak finding critical emotional healing through lapsitting is now basically the unifying truth underlying my entire headcanon ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
